


Homesick

by Star_less



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ageplay, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Little bit fluffy, Louis' POV, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Nouis, Omutsu, Plotty, Woobie Niall, baby!Niall, daddy!louis, diapering, do-i-regress-or-not!niall, peeing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 22:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1619201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_less/pseuds/Star_less
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I used ta go wanderin' about in just me nappy. Not a care in th'world.” Niall said, with the tiniest hint of glee and hope in his voice.</i>
</p><p>When an unsure, 'do-I-regress-or-not' kinda Niall is homesick for his home town Ireland, daddy Louis comes to the rescue with a plan that makes Niall feel like he's three years old all over again, and he just kinda likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homesick

Niall and I were sprawled out on the couch. It was Sunday, the perfect day for just lazing about and doing nothing; which is exactly what we did, even if our way of relaxing was a little different to the norm. I carded my finger through Niall's soft blonde hair, de-quiffed and flat. Niall was laying with his head on my chest, his fingertips in his mouth, and a crinkly disposable nappy pulled secure on his waist, so that whenever he made even the slightest fidget, the nappy would crinkle softly. 

“Are you having a nice day, Ni?” I asked him quietly. He suckled experimentally on his fingers and continued watching The Lego Movie for a moment before looking up.   
“Yes.” Niall said.   
I knew something was wrong almost right away. The childlike sparkle in Niall's eyes was gone and he was fidgeting slightly. He didn’t even meet my gaze.   
“Niall.” I kissed him square on his head. “Lovely, what's wrong?”  
Niall took a deep breath, burrowing for the comfort of my shirt. He loved my shirt, I'm not sure why. Maybe because it constantly had the scent of baby powder and Johnson's baby shampoo clinging to it, thanks to Niall. His shoulder's shook, and his breath started to hitch slightly. I embraced him. “Sssh, tell me what's wrong, love. Daddy can fix it.”  
“L-Louis.” He stuttered. Yes, that's me. Now let Niall continue.  
“Um, Daddy.”  
“Yeah, love?” I said, gently smoothing his quiff still.   
“I-It'snotthatIdon'twantyoutobemydaddyanymorebutI-I'mjustso..” He breathed out quickly, “Homesick!”

I paused for a moment, and cupped Niall's cheeks, watching the tears dribble down his cheeks, and brushing them away with the gentle side of my thumb. “You're homesick?”

Niall nodded, biting his lip. “Oh-- please don't be mad at me!” He cried.

“When you say 'homesick', do you mean..” I sighed, and tugged him in tighter to me. He sniffled against my shirt again, scrabbling for comfort. “Do you mean you want to go back to your home with your Mummy and big brother, or do you just miss Ireland?”

“J-just miss Ireland.” Niall sniffled, and it felt like a huge relief. See, Niall's father was a deadbeat dad and Niall's stepfather, who lived with Maura and Greg, abused Niall for his kink- for just wanting to be loved a little more and maybe just stay little. Maura wasn't that neglectful and dropped Niall's stepfather as soon as she knew, but Niall had been terrified to go back to his childhood home in the case of history repeating itself. So God forbid if he ever did want to go back, I'd be a panicking mess until he got home safely in one piece with his dummy stoppering his mouth. _That's_ my Niall.

“That's-- that's okay.” I told him gently. “I can fix that.”  
It was our anniversary soon!

That was why, a week or so later, the two of us were trundling through the airport. Me, with my suitcase, and Niall riding on his Trunki. We boarded the small plane, and I let Niall sleep through, waking him up just in time to see the plane landing in what could only ever be described as the most idyllic, rural part of Ireland possible. It was a little damp, but with the way Niall's tired eyes lit up, it was perfect. 

We settled in to a small cottage nearby and it was just so very homely. Niall could be as babyish – or not so – hey, it was out anniversary-- as he liked. And as a treat, I'd wake him with sugar sandwiches and fairy bread, even if it did mean I was itching to get at his pretty little teeth with his toothbrush, which sometimes I did. Niall would despair, but I'd make up for it by cradling him in my arms in the evening, while I sat in the rocking chair with him and fed him his milk, which had as much Irish cream in it as I would allow. Which wasn't much!  
Don't get me wrong, there were times when Niall wasn't so little – like the Wednesday morning. The morning I speak of was cloudy, but a bit warm, and we were sitting out in the back garden enjoying the bit of sun, and privacy. Niall had a pint at the side of him, but had barely touched it and was drinking lemonade instead. He gulped the last mouthful and sat back thoughtfully. “Ya know..” He said out loud, still thinking. “I remember so much.”

“Hmm?”  
I watched Niall pick clovers and daisies up from the ground. 

“I- I remember..” Niall looked up at me, and his mouth was twitching, but not daring to smile yet. “When me an' Greg were little, an' it was sunny—proper sunny, not like this.” Niall gestured to the clouds. “...we used ta go wanderin' about, an' I used to..” 

His smile was getting just a little wider. I smiled too. “Used to what?” I encouraged him to continue.

“I used ta go wanderin' about in just me nappy. Not a care in th'world.” Niall said, with the tiniest hint of glee and hope in his voice.  
“Yeah?” I smiled, and gave his arm a squeeze. The sky was brightening and the sun flitted through.. perfect. “Well, what's stopping you?”

Niall's eyes widened, as he realized; and it was _so cute_ because all of a sudden the sparkle lit in his eyes and the smile on his face was widening. He broke out in anticipating giggles, and reached out for me with eager hands. I lifted him up, teasing his jeans off of his bottom and down his legs, and counting the buttons on his jumper to take it off. He was in just his Pampers nappy, a little flimsier than his usual, which was worrying, but I sat back and picked the clovers from the ground as Niall, my baby Niall, toddled about gleefully. 

 

After a little while, it was clear that Niall was in need of a wee, so much so it was almost amusing. Every now and then he would clamp his legs together and continue on, only to end up holding himself through the thin fabric of the nappy.   
“Niall,” I told him sternly, “Do you need a wee wee?”  
“N-no, Daddy.” Niall insisted weakly. 

_Okay.. if you're sure.._ I thought to myself. When it got to that point where I feared Niall would explode there and then, which was sooner than later, I called him over once more. He appeared, wriggling urgently, in front of me.   
“Niall Horan. Go for a wee right now.” I told him, and brought him to sit down on my lap. He whimpered at the impact, his cheeks flushing red as he realized I could now feel the warmth spilling through the crotch of the nappy, at an alarmingly fast rate. Nevertheless, Niall flexed in relief and his toes curled a little bit. I rubbed his tummy and watched the nappy absorb as much as possible. It didn't take long for the flimsy nappy to begin leaking, and Niall's moment of relief was interrupted because Niall didn't want to wee all over himself – who did?  
I simply shushed him, and let him carry on as I took the sodden nappy off, holding him steady as he spilled the last of his relief into the grass, blushing furiously.   
“S'what little boys gotta do sometimes.” I reassured, and Niall blushed, a little more pleased. 

It was getting cold again anyway, now that Niall was bare, and he shivered. Me, fearing he get a fever and being my overprotective self, hurried him inside. I got him wrapped in a fresh nappy, and cuddled into me, and we sat in front of the little fire on the rocking chair again (which reminds me, I need to get Niall one of those, he loves them.) and rocked two and fro until it was time for his night feed, which he drank obediently, every last drop. His eyelids slid shut, eyelashes nestling on the tops of his cheeks, and Niall's expression just looked so peaceful and happy that I was sure he wasn't homesick any more... but for another experience like this, part of me wishes that someday, he would be.


End file.
